


By my side

by RaymondHope



Series: By my side [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gossiping friends, Idiots in Love, Nurse!Dany
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:02:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26478403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaymondHope/pseuds/RaymondHope
Summary: She has always needed him, always loved him. She just needs to tell him that.
Relationships: Grey Worm/Missandei, Jorah Mormont/Daenerys Targaryen, Missandei & Daenerys Targaryen
Series: By my side [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1991902
Comments: 30
Kudos: 40
Collections: Jorleesi Equinox Exchange -Fall 2020





	1. You came back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [salzrand](https://archiveofourown.org/users/salzrand/gifts).



> To dearest Salzrand, here is my humble offering based on two prompts you have provided.  
> I took the notes you gave into consideration and tried to incorporate as much as I could into the works. Hope you like it!  
> Prompt 2: Love Declaration-  
> Any kind of setting in which Daenerys validates Jorah's love, with a declaration of her own.  
> Prompt 4: Jorah's love letter-  
> Dany finding the letter Jorah wrote to her when he was in the Citadel.

_“When will you return?”_

_“There is no hurry. It is not as if you require me here.”_

That was the last conversation their queen, Daenerys had had with the Lord Commander of her Queensguard and her armies before he left for Bear Island.

That was four months ago.

Since then, Tyrion had watched her mood grow progressively worse. Although at first, she had been relived to get rid of the man, perhaps to avoid confronting what was in her heart, what everyone alive and conscious in Winterfell had seen after the long night, that relief had been short lived. So many times, she would turn her head slightly, and then turn back, clearly disappointed, and even a bit angry.

And every time that would happen, Grey Worm, who stood in Mormont’s place would shift uncomfortably, and glance at Missandei, who in turn would share an exasperated look with Tyrion and then join him in giving their Queen an unimpressed side-eye while Varys would roll his eyes at them. The remaining members of the council would of course, fail to notice any of this.

Today though, her mood was far worse than could be expected. Mormont had sent a raven saying that he would return this day by evening, but after an hour or so of sunshine, the storm had broken out and had been howling since. Rain this heavy would undoubtedly delay his return. Their Queen, who had been in a pleasant mood earlier today, was now a dragon glaring at the clouds, vainly commanding them to recede.

They were no more inclined to listen to her commands than Mormont had been in the days preceding his departure.

One could hardly blame him though. His displeasure with her was justified. Even Missandei had taken his side when it came down to it.

Speaking of Missandei-

“Good afternoon, Missandei, or is it evening already? I believe I’ve lost track of the time.”

“The usual time for sunset should be in a couple of hours Lord Hand.”

Tyrion sat down on the top step next to her, both looking out to the garden being filled with rain water.

“Has the dragon eaten today?”

“She has eaten up all of my patience for the day. Does that count?”

“There is an old saying in Westeros- like their dragons, the Targaryens listen to neither Gods nor men.”

“They certainly don’t listen to their own hearts either. So, who do they listen to?”

Tyrion glanced at her, “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

Missandei looked at him, “She used to listen to him.”

“She did.”

“He didn’t deserve to be treated like that, and she keeps denying something that everyone from Dorne to Winterfell knows by now.”

Missandei didn’t need to explain what it was, both of them had a front row seat to the whole sorry affair.

When the Long Night had ended, and a new dawn broke, Daenerys let go of everything and stayed at Ser Jorah’s bedside for days on an end, until he regained consciousness. Everyone saw, plain as day, how his injuries hurt her heart. In the eyes of the hostile northerners, she was finally human.

But as Ser Jorah recovered, Daenerys began to withdraw from him. The longer he could stay awake, the less time she would be with him. Daenerys would not stay alone in a room with him, not stand too close, not confide in him as she used to. To shield her heart, she put a wall between them, and hurt him far deeply than the dead could ever have managed. Missandei knew what was truly happening. For what scared the bravest of the brave, except love?

Ser Jorah, however, did not understand what was truly going on. He was an incredibly patient man, but everyone has their limits.

Once the dust from ripping out the mad lioness and replacing her with a dragon settled, the problems began. Her actions confused him, and it was not long before he raised questions.

She did not answer.

He did not ask again, instead apologized for whatever offense he had caused, and quietly accepted whatever boundaries she set for them. His smiles faded, and she looked at him even less.

It all came to head when he expressed a desire to take time off from his duties and return to Bear Island for a time.

“My cousin has expressed a wish for my presence. I intend to grant her request.”

“I cannot allow you to leave.” The words she said then had more feeling than anything she had said to him in the past several months.

She hadn’t expected him to lash out. No one had, they had all met him under the Essoi sun, where it was easy to forget that Ser Jorah was born and bred in the harshest corner of the most desolate kingdom.

“I was not asking for permission, your Grace.” He bit out every word, coldly, with no hint of his usual warmth.

“Then what do you want?”

“What I want? I’ll tell you what I want!” His voice raised with hurt and agitation. “I want to be with someone who will be glad for my presence.”

After months, Daenerys looked him in the eye. “Your presence is valued here. I don’t see why you feel the need to go to the far side of the realm.”

“Don’t see…” He stood up abruptly, his patience with her finally snapping, “I am informing you that you will not have me to guard you for some time. Would you like to know why? Because I am tired! I am bloody tired of second guessing every step I take, every word I utter because for some reason you have decided to keep me at arm’s length, while at the same time insisting I stay close.”

“You are my Queensguard, your place is by my-”

“By your side. Yes, I know what I swore. I also know that I have proven that oath several times. I almost died trying to keep you alive that night. The wounds I took for your sake,” he shook his head, “I should have died that night!”

“That is enough Ser Jorah!”

“Aye, it is. I will fulfill my duty towards you, without remorse, without hesitation, but I will not tolerate this indignity any longer. I am your sworn sword, not your slave. We both prayed for home, remember? Your home is the Red Keep, and here you are. But what about mine? Lyanna is my family, the only one still alive. Why do I need your permission to go visit her?”

“Call her to King’s Landing.” With that, Daenerys left the Small Council table.

An hour later, after some stern words from Tyrion, and softer ones from Missandei, she went to his room to tell him that he could go to Bear Island when he wished. Grey Worm had been there with him when that had happened.

As he later told Missandei, Ser Jorah had stared at her for a long moment, before getting up and bowing low without a word.

“I always wondered how Mormont could love her so much. But now I am beginning to wonder if he still loves our Queen. I wouldn’t blame if he decided she wasn’t worth it. There is only so many times you can kick aside a loyal dog before he decides not to return.”

“He does. He asks about her often. And he is no dog, he is a bear.”

Tyrion frowned, “None of his letters asked about her. In fact, he has sent only information about his whereabouts and a few words about Lady Sansa. Nothing else of note. He didn’t even write any letters to Daenerys. I daresay she’s even angrier because of that.”

Missandei drew her knees closer to her chest. “I can’t say why he didn’t write to her. He writes often to Grey Worm, and adds a few sentences for me as well sometimes.”

Tyrion huffed with a fond smile. Of course, the only person stubborn and silent Mormont would maintain contact with was the silent and steady Grey Worm.

“Well, how is he?”

“Good, for the most part. The weather is pleasant there, and Lady Lyanna keeps him close. The people he knew, those still alive, have either grown up or grown old, but the natural beauty of the island is the same. The rest of his letters tell small incidents or ask how things are here.”

“Missandei! Tyrion!” They turned to see Grey Worm coming towards them. “Jorah the Andal has returned.”


	2. I need you by my side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only the truth can set you free.

He had returned yesterday, in the evening as he said he would, soaked to the bone and shivering in his northern wools. The rain and howling winds had not deterred him. And yet, he had not come to see her. He had just sent word that he had arrived and left it at that. Surely, as his queen, she deserved to be greeted personally now that he had returned to court after four long months.

She secured the dragon clasp on her shoulder and waited for Missandei to braid her hair.

As Missandei began to weave her hair, Daenerys began speaking.

“Missandei, after you are done please ask someone to send Ser Jorah to me. He has failed to report for duty.”

The moment the words left her mouth, she flinched at a sharp tug on her hair.

“Ser Jorah is running a fever due to getting wet in the storm. He will not be reporting to anyone for a few days.” Another sharp tug at her hair, “You are free to visit him if you wish.”

She did. Missandei had made very clear that she had not been fair to Ser Jorah, and she knew the truth in her words. Tyrion had even dared to suggest that he remain on Bear Island where he was treated with respect. After the uncertainty and loneliness of the past four months, she had decide to face the truth head on. 

How ironic that Jorah would fall ill when she was gathering her courage. 

The curtains of his room were closed, and he was lying in bed under a thick quilt. The scene reminded her of the aftermath of the Long Night.

She had spent days at his bedside, willing him, commanding him, begging him, to return to her one more time.

He had, eventually. Just as he had returned yesterday, from Bear Island, despite the way they had parted. She moved closer, slowly so as not to wake him.

His eyes were closed, his breathing deep and steady, though his face was flushed and there was cloth thrown over his forehead. She checked, finding it dry, and moved to wring it out in the basin kept at his bedside table. Once she had wiped down his sweaty brow, she took her place by his side and clasped his hand in hers. His hand twitched slightly, but he did not wake.

 _And now my watch begins,_ thought Daenerys. Sitting here, just the two of them, she felt more at peace than she had. She leaned over and pressed a light kiss to his bearded cheek.

A few hours later, when Missandei brought some broth for him to eat, she decided to take her leave.

“Daenerys, I promised to have lunch with Grey Worm. Could you ensure that Ser Jorah eats?”

“I…” she hesitated, Missandei set down the tray and turned to her with hands on her hips.

Grey Worm spoke from the doorway. "Earlier, I had no fear."

Daenerys looked at him. He continued, "Then I met Missandei of Naath. Now I have fear. Fear is the cost for love." 

“I will ensure he eats.” Daenerys acquiesced. 

Waking him up was easy, getting him to listen to her was not.

“You can leave, I am capable of feeding myself.” This grousing came when he was barely able to lift his head from the mound of pillows that kept him upright.

“Do not be stubborn. Come, eat.”

“You’re one to talk about stubbornness.” He muttered under his breath before sipping from the spoon she held to his face.

“If you have something to say, say it now when we have no audience.”

He rolled his eyes, “You wouldn't listen.”

She breathed deeply through her nose, “Ask. I give you permission to speak freely.”

This seemed to take away whatever little energy he had. “Leave it be, your Grace.”

She did, at least until he had finished most of what was in that bowl.

He was feverish, his eyes glazed over, but he was alert enough to respond to her, though she suspected talking to him now would be more like to talking to a drunk. She took his hand in hers once again. He stared at them, his brow furrowed, trying to work out the mess she had created between them.

“You did not write to me.” She whispered into the silent room.

“I did.”

“You did not.”

“I did.” He nodded, his words slower, his eyes closed. There must have been some herbs mixed in the broth.

“No. I did not receive any letter from you.”

He chuckled, at a joke only he seemed to know.

“You did not.”

“Why?”

He looked at her, for a moment there was clarity, his eyes as open as they ever were, a smile at the corners of his mouth. He lowered his voice and whispered as if it were a secret he was divulging to her.

“I never sent them.” With that he fell back against the pillows.

She scoffed. Yes, that would explain it.

“Well, where are they then?”

He pulled his hand away then, rolling onto his side, and muttered, “Somewhere in those bags, find them if you can.”

She covered him with the quilt, letting him sleep, and went to work unpacking his belongings. There weren’t many of them, exile had taught him to own only what he could carry himself.

She found several letters addressed to her, but the one that caught her eye was the oldest of the lot and the shortest.

It was certainly written before Samwell cured him of greyscale. She had known he was ill; she had known the treatment was dangerous. What she did not know was that he had come so close to dying. This letter, was a last goodbye.

She again took her place by his bedside, promising herself that she would do what she should have done long ago. These four months without him had made her realize that she needed him, not just as a queen needs her knight, but as one needs air to breathe. Had he not returned; she had been contemplating going off to Bear Island to fetch him.

When Jorah woke up again, feeling much better and more alert, he found Daenerys in a chair next to his bed.

She smiled softly at him, “Good evening. I was beginning to wonder whether you would ever wake.”

He shook his head and groaned, “No, not this again.”

“What?” She made to take his hand, but he pulled away.

“This.” He said gesturing to them. “Everyone told me that after the long night you cared for me for weeks. Yet, the stronger I got, the colder you became towards no one but me. Please, don’t do that again.”

She lowered her eyes, and swallowed. “I’m sorry. I never meant- i was overwhelmed, it was just too much.”

“Why? What did I do that made you like that?”

“Nothing.” She bit her lip, “Well not nothing. You loved me. Enough to face death for me far more times than any sane man should.”

Jorah opened his mouth and closed it again. He stared at her. “Do you realize how little sense that makes? I am sworn to you.” He looked away and admitted once again, “I love you.”

“I know.” She raised her head, and looked straight at him. “I do too.”

It took him a few seconds to understand what she said.

“Wait what?”

She smiled through tears and nodded, “I love you. I've always loved you. I knew it when you almost died in my arms. When I almost lost you, it broke my heart. I thought, I could pretend nothing had happened, that everything would be the same. All I did was hurt you. I'm sorry.”

He blinked a few times, then smiled. “Couldn’t have told me that sooner could you?”

She threw herself at him.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you before. I just… I was scared. I didn’t know what to do about you… about what I felt for you.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist just as she wrapped her around his neck.

“No one does.” He adjusted her so she was sitting in his lap, “Being in love is terrifying. No one knows what to do with it until they fall in love.”

She stared at him as he gently wiped her tears. “These past four months, without you were awful. I thought I had lost you for good this time.”

He smiled gently at her, a special smile he kept just for her, “You could never lose me. As much as I loved going to Bear Island, my true home is with you.”

“As mine is with you.”

Words were never needed between them, so why spend hours talking of the sun and moon and stars when one touch could say all that was needed?

They kissed.

* * *

Tyrion and Grey Worm looked up from their game of dice when Missandei came running into the room.

Tyrion spoke first, “Well? Are they going to continue being idiots or have they come to their senses?”

Missandei snaked her arms around Grey Worm and answered, “I went to give Ser Jorah his dinner, but he is currently sleeping.”

Tyrion wiggled his eyebrows, “And?”

“Daenerys is with him. Using his shoulder as a pillow.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, muttering, “Finally.”

Grey Worm raised his glass and announced to the three of them. “Now, our next mission- to find a lady for our Lord Hand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there it is.


End file.
